(We have three different kinds of salsa, which are named based on their spiciness: mild, medium, and hot. Customers choose their salsa, and employees put it on. I always point to each one as I say their names when asking customers which ones they want. It is a very slow night; I am the only one working on the food line, and the only manager is in the back. This customer is the first one I’ve seen in ten minutes or so.)

Me: “All right, would you like mild, medium, or hot salsa?”

Customer:*points to the mild salsa* “Hot.”

Me:*I figure it’s more likely that he misspoke than that he mis-pointed. I grab the spoon for the mild salsa and keep my eye on the customer’s face* “This one?”

Customer: “Is that the hot?”

Me:*I move my hand over to the spoon for the hot salsa* “Sorry, that was the mild. This one’s the hot.”

Customer: “Mild?”

Me:*I point to the mild* “This one here?”

Customer: “Is that the hot?”

Me: “No, that is the mild.” *I point to the hot* “This is the hot. Did you want the hot salsa?”

Customer: “No, not that one.”

Me:*I point to the mild* “So, the mild?”

Customer: “NOT MILD!”

Me: “Okay, um…” *I point to the medium* “Medium?”

Customer:*clearly getting irate* “HOT! SALSA!”

Me: “Yes, sir.”

(I grab the ladle of hot salsa, and start to bring it to the customer’s food.)

(He’s already yelling because I tried to clarify. He still doesn’t know which salsa is which. Either he gets mad at me now because I explain it, or he gets mad later because his food isn’t spicy, and then gets mad again the next time an employee tries to clarify what he wants. I decide to bite the bullet. I plaster on my cheerful customer service face. My eyes probably glaze over. I am no longer present.)

Me: “Yes, sir! I’m very sorry; I just want to make sure that I get you exactly what you want. It looks like you’re pointing to this one.” *points to mild* “Is that right?”

Customer: “YES! HOT SALSA!”

Me: “I’d be happy to give you some of this, but I’d hate it if you sat down with the food and were disappointed because you expected it to be hot. This one is mild. It has no spiciness whatsoever. Is that okay?”

Customer: “WHY IS THIS SO HARD FOR YOU? I DON’T WANT IT TO BE MILD. I WANT HOT SALSA. THAT MEANS SPICY! JUST… AUGH! CAN SOMEONE ELSE DO THIS? SOMEONE SMARTER THAN YOU?”

Me: “Sure! Just a moment, sir.”

(I go in the back to talk to the manager.)

Me: “Sir, there’s a gentleman up front who would like some help with his salsa choices this evening.”

Manager: “Oh, god, you’ve gone robot again. It’s that bad?”

Me: “He says he’d like someone smarter than me to do it.”

Manager: “Oh, boy.”

(The manager goes up front. I stay in the office and watch on the security monitors as the manager listens to the customer, and reaches for the hot salsa. I see the customer gesturing wildly, and hear some yelling from all the way up front. Then the customer storms out without his food. I walk up front, and pass the manager on his way back. He’s holding back laughter.)

(I work the night shift at a fast food restaurant making the orders. It is about 2 a.m. and my coworker is taking an order in the drive-thru at the speaker box and I’m listening in.)

Customer:*incoherent rambling with the word “goat” in there somewhere*

Coworker: “Sorry, I can’t understand you; can I take your order at the window?”

Coworker:*to me after taking their order* “They want to know if you can make a salad for their goat.”

Me:*laughing* “I guess I can do that. This is the first time I’ve made an order for a goat.”

(They had a goat in the back seat of their car and gave it the salad. On my way home from work in the morning, I found the goat tied to a power pole. As it turned out, it wasn’t their goat. Luckily, I found its owner and it got home safely.)

Me: “Thank you for choosing [Store]! My name is [My Name]. How may I serve you?”

Customer: “I would like a chicken biscuit. And, let’s see… Do I want anything else?”

Me: “Would you like to try a cinnamon cluster today?”

Customer: “A cinnamon cluster? I don’t like cinnamon… Nah, I’m just messing with you. I’m taking this to my wife.”

Me: “All the more reason to get something sweet.”

Customer: “You mean I’m not sweet enough?”

Me: “Well, it doesn’t hurt to have that extra boost.”

Customer:*laughs* “You have a good point.”

Me: “Can I have a name for your order?”

Customer: “Well, what do I get out of it?”

Me: “I’m sorry?”

Customer: “What do I get out of it if I give you my name?”

Me: “Um… we’ll give you the right food at the window.”

Customer: “Well, I don’t have one.”

Me: “Does that mean I get to make one up then?”

Customer: “Sure.”

Me: “Okay, then. You’re Spider-Man today.”

Customer:*starts to sing the Spider-Man theme song*

Me:*starts laughing* “Your total comes to [total] and we’ll be happy to serve you at the window.”

(When the customer pulled up to the window and was addressed as Spider-Man, he started to sing the song again. It gave all of us in the drive-thru corner a good laugh and I made sure to tell him that he made my entire day.)

(An older customer walks up to my cash register and hands me a coupon. I prepare to ring it in when I notice it’s for an item I am unfamiliar with. I am about to ask my coworker next to me about it when I notice another restaurant’s logo on it.)

Me: “Sir, this is an [Other Restaurant] coupon.”

Customer: “Is it expired?”

Me: “No. It’s for a different restaurant.”

Customer: “So, it’s no good?”

Me: “I’m sure it’s good, but at [Other Restaurant].”

(He then took the coupon back, looking very confused, and walked out without saying another word.)

(I work in a sandwich shop that makes sandwiches fresh-to-order in front of the customer. It looks great and customers can choose what they want fresh, but when it gets busy some orders can be chaotic. A customer walks in while the shop is quiet and orders four sandwiches, which I make and put into the toaster for her. While this is going on, a queue begins to form behind her, but she has yet to finish ordering before her first sandwiches are out of the toaster.)

Customer:*moves to the salad bar before she has finished her order*

Me:*finishes the sandwich she had just asked for* “Would you like anything else?”

Customer: “I’ll come back in a minute. I want to do the salad for these first. Just take the next person’s order.”

Me: “I’m afraid I won’t be able to let you jump back into the queue if I start another order.”

(The queue is now reaching the door in our small shop, and I don’t want someone to end up with the wrong sandwich by disrupting the production line.)

Customer: “No, no. Take his order and I will come back and finish mine in a second.”

(I try to explain again, but she is ignoring me. I motion to the manager, who is on the till and has heard the exchange, and he flags someone who was out the back of the shop to follow the woman and finish her order. Thankful, I start the next person’s order.)

Customer:*finishes with her salads, and interrupts the man I am serving* “I need three more sandwiches.”

Coworker:*who was flagged by boss* “Hey, what can I get for you?”

Customer: “No, this lady was doing my order. I want a chicken sandwich.”

Me:*I smile* “I’m afraid I’ve started another order but don’t worry, [Coworker] is going to finish your order for you.”

Customer:*doesn’t say another word to me but finishes order with my coworker*

(As soon as she’s left the shop I get called around the back by my manager. Apparently the woman lodged a complaint against me for racist behaviour [she was black, I’m white] because I had someone else complete her order. He attempted to explain the queue system to her as well, but she seemed unable to grasp what he was saying. Thankfully, my boss laughed it off and just teased me about being racist for a few days afterwards.)